


Chaos

by Crysania



Series: Catatonic!Belle [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andi prompted "How about one more with Emma meeting the conscious Belle and seeing one more thing breaking the curse saved."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos

Emma is still stunned. She’s still not sure what to think. One moment she’s just a former foster kid, living in Boston and making her way through life tracking down the sort of sleazy guys who don’t pay up on their bonds and the next she’s being engulfed in a huge hug by Snow White and Prince Charming. And they’re her _parents_. She remembers seeing Snow White, _the movie_ , when she was a kid, all sweet and innocent and singing with bluebirds and hanging with dwarves. She’s not sure how much of that is true now.

She’s not even sure what reality _is_ anymore. But she does know one thing. Regina may be the Evil Queen, but she’s sure she’s not behind all of this. There’s a mob heading to her home. They want her head.

But Emma wants something different. Snow White and Prince Charming, _her fucking parents_ , turn to go follow the rest of the town, but she hesitates.

“What is it, Emma?” The voice is still Mary Margaret’s, still soft, still full of empathy. It’s not Snow White’s, not yet. She wonders when that will change.

“I don’t think Regina was behind this.”

“Oh, Emma,” Snow says, putting a hand on her arm. Emma knows that she knows so much more about the _Evil Queen_ than she does. But she has a hunch.

She shrugs off Mary Margaret, _her mother_ , and steps away. “Gold,” she mutters.

“Rumplestiltskin?” Snow White sounds surprised.

Emma turns to her and meets her eyes finally. “Is that who he is?” She remembers the stories, the stolen babies ( _Ashley_ , her mind whispers at her), the deals ( _but he always gives his name…well…his fake name at least_ ), but also remembers that he should be a _gnome_ , tiny, three feet tall. Gold’s not tall. In her heels, she’s taller than him. But he’s clearly not a gnome. “Has he shrunk?”

“What?”

“Since the curse broke? Has he gone back to his usual size?” She can’t believe the weird things she’s coming up with. This whole curse and fairy tale characters thing is really taking a toll on her brain.

“That _is_ his real size…” Snow’s voice trails off, going up at the end just slightly. She often ends sentences as if they’re questions. Emma knows this is just part of the soft-spoken woman’s curse, but it’s always grated on her nerves just a tiny bit.

“So he’s not…you know…three feet tall?”

Snow just laughs. “I think the real Rumplestiltskin is different from the one in your books.” They all are, Emma is learning. Henry has told her over and over again that the stories in _his_ book are the true ones, twisted from the ones she knows though they may be. Apparently this is as true for Gold… _Rumplestiltskin_ …as much as everyone else in this strange mixed up little town.

“Well, I don’t care what he looks like…”

“You probably should,” Snow points out.

David… _Prince Charming_ …her father (really, how is he her father and why is she suddenly so embarrassed to have noticed how nice his butt looked in those jeans anyway?)…he throws in his agreement.

“What’s his story anyway?” she finally manages to ask.

“No one knows, really,” Snow replies but Emma can tell she’s hiding something.

“What about that wife of his?” Her eyes narrow on Snow and David and she’s surprised to see _their_ surprise.

“Wife?” David asks.

“Gold’s married?” Snow says.

“You don’t know about his wife?” Emma looks from one to the other. “The woman who sits in some weird coma state in the back of his shop? Seriously?”

Almost at the same time they both form little o’s with their mouths. “His _wife_ ,” Snow says.

“You guys are scaring me. Who is she?” Emma is starting to get more and more concerned by the minute.

“Was he married back home?” Snow turns to David and asks.

“No. He told me he loved someone. He told me she had died.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Is she…” She didn’t even want to finish that sentence. Had the curse somehow frozen his dead love? Was he sitting in the back of his shop reading to a _corpse_? “This is getting creepier by the minute.”

But she knows she has to face him. He sent her off to face that dragon, which she had successfully killed with nothing more than her wit and her father’s sword. He stole that weird decorative egg she had retrieved, apparently for _him_ , not for her. She had awakened Henry, broken the curse, brought them all back to themselves.

Was Gold even now sitting in the back of his pawn shop mourning at the feet of a corpse? _Could_ this town get any weirder?

Sending her parents off to take care of the Regina situation, she made the far too short trek to Gold’s shop. It was better to face him _now_ than later, after all.

When she arrives, she shoves the door open perhaps a bit harder than she needs to, sending the bells to jingling in loud disarray. “Gold,” she shouts as she steps inside.

But it’s not Gold who comes out of the backroom. A young woman steps out and as her eyes meet Emma’s, she smiles. It’s genuine, bright and happy, and for a moment she can’t quite place her. It’s only when Gold walks out behind her and wraps an arm around her waist and the woman squeals, that she realizes she knows her.

“Miss Swan,” Gold says. His voice is not flat, not sarcastic. It’s almost… _warm_.

“Your wife?” she asks. It must be the same woman, but it’s so hard to tell. Now she’s stepping toward her on heels higher than she could imagine wearing. She’s a tiny little thing, still shorter than the pawnbroker, even in her tall heels. And he’s not tall. She might even describe him, if she felt so inclined, as short. The woman is clearly far shorter.

“Well, not exactly,” the woman says and there’s a bit of laughter behind the words. “In this world, I suppose I would be.”

Behind her Gold grumbles. “Create a curse and get saddled with a wife. Hardly fair.” But she hears no bite to the words and the woman turns around to give him a playful glare.

“Oh Rumple, do behave”

“Of course, dear,” he responds with. The exchange is so instantaneous that it seems they’ve had, if not the same conversation before, then at least ones along that line. They’re clearly quite comfortable with each other and the way the woman reaches out to smooth down the sleeve of his shirt and the way she smiles at him makes her ache a little. She had that…once.

“I’m Belle,” the petite woman finally offers, stepping away from the pawnbroker and holding out her hand to Emma.

Emma takes it but cocks her head to the side. “Belle? Really?” She glances at Gold. “You’re the beast then?”

“It seems fitting, does it not, Miss Swan?” He sweeps a slightly formal bow.

“But you’re…”

“Rumplestiltskin?” He says the word with a rolled “r” and a raised eyebrow. “I am. It seems our stories have taken on a strange life of their own in your world.”

“Strange in _our_ world?” She scoffs at that thought. In her world, they’re stories. Nothing more. Now they’re _real_ and that is perhaps the most disconcerting thing of all. She’s come to realize she’s gone out for girls night with Snow White, Red Riding Hood, and…”Just who is Ashley again?”

“Pardon?”

“Ashley…”

“Cinderella. Why is this important again?”

Emma almost laughs. It’s not often she gets to see Gold off his game. “It’s not.” She turns back to Belle and she can still barely understand how the unmoving woman in the back room had suddenly become so animated. “So you’re…”

Belle laughs and it’s a lovely sound. Even Gold smiles at her laughter and he seems inordinately pleased when Belle reaches out and wraps her arms around one of his. “I’m his true love.”

Emma can’t help the way her nose scrunches up at that thought. Gold. With a true love. She knows her parents have it. She can see the way they look at each other. Even the Queen’s curse couldn’t stop them from finding each other. But Gold and this woman? This Belle? True love?

“I see you find it hard to believe, Miss Swan.” Belle is still hovering close to him and she watches as the young woman looks up at the much older pawnbroker with something that can only be described as adoration.

Emma shrugs “Don’t _you_? Pretty young girl? And well… _you_.” It gives her the heebie-jeebies, to be honest.

“Say no more,” Gold starts to say but he’s cut off by Belle, who finally releases him to step forward.

“You may not believe it, Miss Swan…”

“Emma, sweetheart. I’m the only one around here who calls her that.”

Belle glances back at Gold, and did he just call her _sweetheart_ , and smirks. “Right. You may not believe it Emma, but it’s all true.”

“Then why…”

“Was I in the state I was in?” She notices the words that are not spoken. _Catatonic_. For 28 years, apparently. It’s a long time, a lifetime to Emma. “The Queen.”

“Regina?”

Belle nods. “She wanted to punish Rumple and so found a way.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Emma mutters. Regina had tried to chase her out of town, tried to kill her, tried to put her under a sleeping curse. But leaving someone, an apparently innocent someone who’s greatest crime was loving Gold, is beyond even what she thought she was capable of.

“It is,” Belle agrees.

“Maybe I _will_ let the mob have her,” Emma mutters and is surprised to see Belle’s eyes cloud with what she can only call concern.

“Mob?” There’s a strange bent to her voice. She almost sounds scared and for a moment Emma watches the look that passes between the young woman and Gold. _He’s next_ , Emma realizes. She doesn’t quite know who he was to everyone in the Enchanted Forest, but she suspects it’s no one good.

“They probably want the Queen’s head on a platter, sweetheart. She did curse them to this place, after all.” It’s odd hearing him explain something so horrific in such a warm voice.

“But you…”

“Yes I know,” he interrupts quickly and Emma’s eyes narrow.

“The curse,” she murmurs.

“Yes, Miss Swan?” The pawnbroker finally breaks eye contact with the woman he calls his _true love_ and looks back to Emma.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re here and not after Regina like the rest of the town.” He steps away from Belle.

“You did this to your own wife?” The more she knows about Gold, the less she understands.

He’s far too serious as he approaches her. “I created the curse, Miss Swan. I made you the savior.” He waves a hand in the air as he speaks. “But I did not cast it.”

“What does that mean?” She hates the way she wants to take a step backward as he approaches. He’s stalking her, like a great panther, and she knows she’ll be fucking _lunch_ if she doesn’t do something about it all. He’s smaller than her, yet somehow she knows he’s so much more dangerous than his small stature would imply.

“It means that Regina cast it. And therefore it is _Regina’s_ curse. David Nolan married to someone who is not his real wife? Regina’s doing.” Emma suddenly remembers Kathryn and cringes. What will become of her now that she knows her marriage was nothing but one big lie? “Belle’s _state_.” The words are clipped as he speaks. “Also Regina’s doing. Even this shop, even me. Regina’s doing.”

“You were as caught as we all were,” she says, realization suddenly dawning.

“I was. Until you arrived. The savior come home at last.”

Belle steps around him then, moving to the front once more. Her eyes are earnest and she reaches out her hands to clasp one of Emma’s in both of hers. “You did more than break a curse, Emma. You saved us. You saved _all_ of us.”

It hits her then, how serious her job was, how being called the savior was about more than just a ridiculous nickname. It’s frightening really, not something she ever asked for, not something she ever wanted. But here she is. The savior of an entire town.

“I believe, Miss Swan, that perhaps your next savior duty should be to save Regina’s pretty little neck.” Gold doesn’t point at the door, but it’s clear he wants her out. She can well imagine why.

“You think I should?” There’s a bit of black humor there, somewhere in her voice.

He gives a short bark of laughter. “Perhaps not.”

“You should,” Belle says. “Regina must pay for her crimes, but taking her life in an act of vigilante justice seems cruel.”

Emma gives them both a dark look before stepping toward the door. “This isn’t over, Gold.” She pulls the door open and starts to step through before his voice halts her.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Miss Swan.”

And then she’s out the door and she can hear the bells jingle as it closes behind her. She’ll revisit this mess…eventually. But for now there are bigger problems to worry about than the pawnbroker’s part in all of this. She was still sheriff of this town, after all. It seems she was going to have to create some order out of the chaotic breaking of the curse after all.


End file.
